


Deep End

by curiousvacancy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fireworks, Hale-McCall Pack, Isaac Never Left, M/M, McCall-Hale pack, Mostly Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Pack Nights, Puppy Piles, Sexual Tension, Summer Vibes, and I love braeden but she's not here either, both literal and figurative lmao, but malia is somewhere else, copious amounts of junk food, erica and boyd lived, everyone gets a full shift, except for theo rip, just fyi this fic is mostly just pack mush and sterek pining, movie marathon, pack merging, teenagers being teenagers, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 08:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousvacancy/pseuds/curiousvacancy
Summary: California air never tasted better than it did on July fourth. The rich flavors of barbecue smoke and chlorine danced through Stiles' mouth, down his throat, and flooded his lungs with a sense of home and belonging he hadn’t felt since before his mom started showing symptoms.He wondered what the summer air tasted like to the wolves.





	Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in June and finally got around to editing it this week; I'll probably go over it again tomorrow when I'm more awake. I hope you guys enjoy, despite the delay!

Lydia’s idea of a party seemed to have changed a lot over the years. Where she used to thrive surrounded by as many near-strangers as possible, she now basked in the closeness of pack as much as any of the shifters in their lives. 

Stiles, personally, was grateful for it. He had never been too big on the crowds, the judgmental eyes skating along his too-long limbs and the edges of his face, unsure whether he should drink his worries away or stay sober so as to avoid making a damn fool of himself. He did that well enough without the fog of booze. 

Just ask his dad, or Scott, or...well, anyone, really. He may have gained some fine motor control since his internship at the FBI, but that didn’t make him graceful by any stretch of the imagination. 

Looking out at the banshee’s backyard in the dulling light of summer dusk from his primo spot at the shallow end of the pool, his lips twitched upward just enough for him to feel it. Yeah, this was definitely better than pulsing throngs of people he’d never met. 

California air never tasted better than it did on July fourth. The rich flavors of barbecue smoke and chlorine danced through his mouth, down his throat, and flooded his lungs with a sense of _ home _ and _ belonging _he hadn’t felt since before his mom started showing symptoms. 

He wondered what the summer air tasted like to the wolves, whether it was as mouthwatering for them as it was for Stiles. Could they taste the malt of sunshine, the warm feathers of the gulls that had only just stopped swinging on the breeze? With the sky growing dark, maybe the flavor on the air was changing. Maybe it was more the gunpowder of faraway fireworks and the melty red, white, and blue popsicles that had the onlookers’ fingers sticky-sweet. 

Stiles licked his lips, tasting nothing but the tang of his third sangria.

He blinked slowly, turning the idea over in his head and letting himself consider what those heightened senses might actually feel like. Not for the first time, but for the first time in a _ long _time. 

Summer really fucked with him sometimes. 

“Lookin’ pretty zoned out there, dude.” Scott said with an easy smile, body slicing through the water sluggishly as he swam up and rested one arm—he’d really started to bulk up now that they were out of high school, Lordy—on the stone ledge beside Stiles’ loose body. “Told you that second burger was pushing it.”

“I may not have your wolfy metabolism, but I can put ‘em away. Besides, it’s a holiday. I’m living my best life, Scotty boy.” Stiles snorted, grinning and fluffing his own still-damp hair. After a long day of very competitive pool volleyball and three near-violent rounds of chicken, he’d needed the fuel. “Who’d have thought Derek knew how to fuck with a grill like that?”

Scott snorted, looking out at his fellow Alpha where he sat on the ledge near the deep end. The man was reclining on one arm, body language more relaxed than either of them could have ever imagined upon meeting him that day in the woods so many years ago. He wasn’t smiling, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his face as he chatted quietly with Isaac and Kira. 

Stiles couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting down along the damp hair that curled over Derek’s meaty chest and down into his black swim trunks. The teen swallowed slowly before sliding down the stair he was sitting on to rest his body fully against the sun-warm stone behind him, water lapping at his collarbones. 

“Fuckin’ love summer.” He breathed, smiling to himself. Scott rolled his eyes and swam off to the other end of the pool. Judging by the sound of Kira’s squeal and the subsequent splash, he had better things to do. 

Righting himself, Stiles looked out at his friends and nearly choked on his laughter when he saw Scott swinging the kitsune through the water happily, Derek and Isaac freshly soaked. 

Amused seafoam eyes found him and it nearly stole Stiles’ breath away. The human felt his cheeks and neck flood with a tipsy sort of heat, but no matter how he tried he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop grinning. It was like his face had malfunctioned at the sight of Derek so open. Vulnerable. 

This was a new thing for them.

It wasn’t the first time since the McCall-Hale Pack had formally come to be, and knowing it likely wasn’t the last had something pleasant settling between his ribs. 

Erica, who was lazing with Lydia and Boyd in the modern hot tub just beside him, let out an amused cackle. 

“Nice hair, Alpha!” She called, whistling. Derek, with an appalling confidence, tossed the wet locks from his forehead and let his eyes shine crimson in a manner that could only be described as _ frisky_. 

Stiles was pretty sure he’d just fallen in love all over again. 

Thankful for the cool pool water to mask his scent (even just somewhat, please universe?), he tried not to let the unadulterated affection he felt show on his face. It wasn’t too difficult with the fresh distraction of Theo and Liam dashing out of the house, Theo growling low and menacing to the sound of his boyfriend’s antagonistic laughter. 

Stiles was a bit too slow with red wine and brandy to turn away in time, squawking as Liam was shoved into the water not three feet from him. Theo dove in after him, dragging the other teen up to the surface and kissing him hard the moment Liam could breathe. 

Stiles groaned, rolling his head back on his neck; he did _ not _want to know what they’d been getting up to while they'd been out of sight.

“Alright, alright. Keep it in your shorts.” Stiles snapped playfully, throwing an armful of water their way. They broke apart only to turn glowing irises on the human, Liam’s lips curling into a coy smirk and Theo’s eyes hooded and not-quite-dangerous but still very much _ yikes_. 

Ugh. Maybe it was better that he didn’t have a super-sniffer, those two had to _ reek_. 

Pushing away from his cozy resting place, Stiles swam out closer to the middle of the pool to put some distance between himself and the relatively new couple. He ended up not far from Scott, who was holding Kira up in the water with ease.

Stiles tried not to think about the pale eyes still lingering on him as he shoved his own water-dark hair from his brow, refusing to meet them over his friend’s shoulder. The feeling of it made him doubly aware of the new freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and the mild sunburn that had his skin bright with sensitivity.

“Hey Lydia?” Kira called, droplets trailing down her pale throat even as Scott nuzzled her distractedly. “Do you still have that stash of candy from V-day? If I don’t get some chocolate in me within the hour I think I might keel over dead.”

Strawberry blonde hair clung to Lydia’s shoulders in glossy chunks as she turned to face them, full lips quirking. 

“Only if you bring me a Reese's.” She chimed. “Top shelf of the pantry.” 

“Just bring the whole bag!” Erica demanded, patented grabby hands engaged and eyes bright at the thought of getting a little more sugar in her system. Lydia hummed in approval. Her vodka soda seemed to have her feeling generous. 

Once she’d pressed a kiss to Scott’s wet nose, Kira swam for the stairs and climbed out, wringing the water from her hair and snatching up the fluffy yellow towel she’d brought. Scott smiled dreamily as she made for the kitchen, still somewhat visible from the pool. 

Stiles slung an arm around his best friend’s shoulders and offered his thickening chest a wet pat. The sound of it was a little sad.

“You are sooo whipped, my dude.”

Scott looked two seconds from swooning, grin wide and dopey.

“Yep.” 

It was only when Kira was back in the pool with a Snickers mini caught between her lips and Scott leaning in to snap up the other half that the pack realized how dim it was getting out, how low the sun had fallen. Erica insisted that they stay out a little while longer, hoping that they might catch a glimpse of some fireworks over the hedges. Lydia had told them earlier that it wasn’t uncommon, regardless of the legality. She didn’t seem to mind much. 

Content to stay where he was, Stiles grabbed hold of a stray pool floatie out of sheer laziness and clumsily slung himself across it, not particularly caring that it was shaped like a frosted donut. 

He was a cop’s kid. It was kind of poetic, really. 

The air around them was still thick with heat and it had him drowsy. Just drowsy enough that he didn’t catch Derek’s presence until the man was swimming up to rest his arms on an unoccupied edge of the floatie with a bag of candy held safely above the water.

“Pick your poison.” The Alpha prompted, one dark brow quirking in unison with the corner of his lips. Stiles turned his head to look at him before grinning and snatching both a Reese’s and a butterscotch Dum-Dum. 

“Lydia’ll kill you if you drop a bunch of sugar into her mom’s pool, big bad Alpha or not.” 

“We wouldn’t want that.”

Derek seemed reluctant to move onto the next packmate owed candy. That could have either been because Liam currently had Theo pressed against the top stair of the pool as he snuffled at his neck...or because he wanted to stay close to Stiles. Stiles was a dreamer, so he decided he preferred the latter. 

“No,” Stiles murmured, unwrapping his peanut butter cup. “We wouldn’t.”

Derek’s gaze searched his own briefly before he departed in the direction of the shallow end, reaching into the bag once he could stand and lobbing a Three Musketeers at Liam’s head.

* * *

Fireworks didn’t seem to bother the wolves’ ears too much, sensitive hearing or no; Derek had said that even recently bitten wolves grew accustomed to it, excluding those with severe trauma from dealing with the more trigger-happy brand of hunter.

“This is the sound of civilization, and...life.” He’d said, pausing with furrowed brows to find the words. “Why would we mind it?” 

Stiles could only hope that Derek could possibly consider him with that kind of reverence one day.

(He’d thought he’d seen something like it in the Alpha’s eyes when they were focused solely on him. It was rare, just every now and then. The first time he’d dismissed it as wishful thinking, but now, after _ months—_)

Their ability to deal with the sound of fireworks (_of life_, Stiles’ mind whispered in a voice that sounded very much like Derek) was probably for the best, because it wasn’t more than ten minutes before there was smoke trailing across the sky directly above them—it had to be one of the neighbors, _ had _to be—before there was a crackling boom and glorious red sparks shooting across the stretch of sky they could see from the yard. The light of it felt so close that it could burn. 

Stiles sat up, lips parted in awe and eyes bright as he traced the sparkles of color. Erica let out a thrilled whoop and Kira followed with amazed laughter, but their other packmates were silent, utterly transfixed for a long moment. 

Another one went off, this one spitting smoke that stunk of childhood and late nights. Stiles grinned, dove from the floatie, swam for the stairs, and practically leapt over Theo and Liam’s twined legs, tossing his candy wrappers onto the stone rather than abandoning them in the water—because come on, he wasn’t an _ animal_. Teal exploded above him as he threw open the gate and darted out into the street wearing nothing but his sopping swim trunks, eager to find the source of the festive projectiles. 

“Stiles, wait up!” Scott laughed even as Erica was tearing out the gate along with him, Kira and the others hot on their heels. 

(Well, most of them. Theo and Liam opted for the privacy of the abandoned pool, Theo staring up at Liam with eyes like sparklers.) 

Another one, and then another, but it wasn’t easy to identify exactly where they were coming from with all the noise. They shot down the block in a wild, wet group, gazing up at the booming sky with wonder. A few cheers were heard across the neighborhood, some sounding closer than others. A nearby baby began to cry.

When Stiles turned to beam at his pack (oh god, his pack, he had a _pack_), he found Derek staring at him from no more than five feet away. His fringe was damp and soft, hanging across his forehead beautifully. 

Stiles’ heart pounded, and not just with the chase. Those green eyes had never looked clearer.

“Theretherethere, it’s that one! The one with the gray roof!” Scott shouted, pointing to a house with childlike excitement as another rocket took off into the night sky. Kira stumbled into him, a few strands of long hair catching on her mate’s wet skin.

Another pronounced _ boom!_, and then there were hissing golden-white stars shimmering down and vanishing just atop the trees. It felt something like moonlight, but neither Derek nor Stiles managed to catch sight of that one, eyes locked and hopeful. Hungry.

Erica collapsed into the grass directly behind them, another neighbor’s front yard, followed closely by Isaac. Boyd stood quietly, content as long as his pack was close. Lydia knelt in the grass near Erica’s legs, eyes gleaming with her wonder as a smaller explosive went singing into the sky before letting loose a mess of crimson embers. 

Stiles still hadn’t moved. Neither had the Alpha staring into his face, fingers twitching like he was ready to reach out and _ touch_. 

God, Stiles wanted him, and for a moment it was so, _ so _ easy to convince himself that Derek could want him too. He could want the union of their lips and bodies and souls just as much as Stiles did. He could _ want— _

Scott jostled him and he blinked hard before tearing his gaze away and looking to his friend, and then to the fading red in the sky. A smile caught on his lips at some scattered applause from one of the houses across from them.

There was no doubt that they’d be hearing authoritative sirens within minutes, Beacon County having outlawed civilian use of recreational explosives nearly a decade ago. For at least a few more minutes though, they had this stunning little light show all to themselves. 

When the pack finally abandoned the puddle they’d left on the sidewalk and made their way back into the yard, the wolves present were hit with the stench of Theo and Liam’s...activities. Activities that hadn’t quite ended. 

Derek cringed, Isaac groaned, and Erica let out what Stiles thought might be a shout of adoration for them both, before racing over and shoving them hard into the pool. He wasn’t quite sure she’d planned on tumbling in herself, but life is just like that sometimes. 

When the three surfaced, sputtering, even _ Boyd _managed a laugh. It didn't last long though.

“Why is my mother’s _ hot tub _ full of _ candy? _”

Derek and Stiles met eyes again before bolting into the house without hesitation, Lydia giving chase with a halted scolding. Theo huffily helped Liam from the water and offered him a kiss for the trouble. Liam just rucked his shorts up one-handed and grinned into Theo’s mouth. 

* * *

The pack took turns showering, which was a drawn out process even with two full bathrooms available—not to mention two of the couples sharing, taking the opportunity to get clean behind closed doors. Theo and Liam had been quick but returned looking a little too satisfied. A few minutes after Erica and Boyd wandered off, Derek’s nose scrunched; he seemed intent on keeping the conversation in the living room going. 

When they all (yes, even Stiles and Lydia) heard a distinct thump, the tips of Isaac’s ears went red and he refused to meet anyone’s gaze. 

Stiles was one of the last to wash up, aware that his packmates were more sensitive to the discomfort of sitting around in chlorine-drenched swimsuits. He emerged in his comfiest sleep clothes, rubbing a towel through his hair and cracking his neck. A smile curved along his lips at the sound of Derek ordering them all a good ol’ takeout feast over the phone; from the sound of it, they’d have leftover chow mein for days. That was saying something when you were dealing with werewolves.

“Wish they could’ve made it,” Liam muttered, stretching his arms up over his head from his place on the floor before leaning heavily into Theo’s side. The chimera turned his face, nose brushing some of his boyfriend’s lengthening fringe from his forehead. 

“Mason and Corey?” Stiles asked, lips pursed. Mason was finally introducing Corey to his parents, which was kind of a big deal, and Corey was freaking out enough without the rest of the pack prodding at him. 

He couldn’t blame them for taking some time away, but this was the first pack night any of them had missed and it definitely felt...strange. Like a gap between Stiles’ teeth that hadn’t been there the day before.

Liam looked a little pained at the mention of Mason. The guy wasn’t just his best friend anymore, they were proper pack—as good as family, for all intents and purposes. To say that they’d seen a lot together since starting high school would be a ridiculous understatement.

(Corey had grown on him too, loath as he was to admit it.)

“I dunno, I get it.” Scott said with a casual shrug that read more beta than Alpha. “If my mom weren’t working a double I don’t know if I’d have been able to get away; she hasn’t had a day off in ages and fireworks make her mushy.” 

“You’re our Alpha. Well, one of them.” Lydia reminded him, one brow lifting delicately as she worked a fresh coat of taupe polish over her nails. “We’d have dragged you.”

“And your mom.” Stiles laughed, dropping himself onto the couch and giving Scott’s shoulder a light punch. “She’s pack, dude. Hell, I was ready to bribe my dad with a pile of red meat to get him over here, but y’know. Duty calls.”

Scott offered a mocking salute, lips curled upward even as Kira emerged from upstairs with her half-dry hair in a messy ponytail. She sat herself in her mate’s lap with a smile and brushed their noses together, the two murmuring low greetings as though they hadn’t spent the last day joined at the hip.

Stiles sank into the cushions discreetly, looking up at the ceiling and trying to focus on the sound of Derek’s voice as he confirmed the last four numbers of his credit card. When he turned his head to find the Alpha’s form he saw the way green eyes slid down his torso from where he stood by one of the windows. 

The human’s ears went hot as he realized that the hem of his shirt had inched up over one pale hipbone. If he was lucky the larger man would mistake his flush as a result of a slightly-too-hot shower.

He tried to play it cool as he drew it back down and faced Erica and Boyd to insist on a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. Brawl before they settled in for the movie marathon. Tonight’s theme was aliens, because hello, Independence Day anyone? Duh.

Derek hung up just as Stiles rose to grab the TV remote and get the ball rolling. Lydia had never been particularly into video games, but her mom had the biggest flat-screen so keeping Scott’s old Wii there felt like an easy choice. They’d have kept it at Derek’s, where they hung out most, but he didn’t want to buy a new TV and haul it home when he was planning on moving out of the loft before summer’s end. 

Their Alphas had been hunting for a new pack house for months now, something close to the preserve and roomy enough for their still growing family, five bedrooms at the very least—preferably with enough land to expand over the years. A few weeks prior, Stiles had taken the leap and proposed the option of rebuilding the Hale house, or at least building something suitable on the property left behind. 

The way Derek’s dark lashes had lowered in consideration had felt like a good sign. 

Either way, Stiles knew Derek didn’t see himself staying at the loft much longer. The space was awesome for puppy piles and fast food banquets, but it wasn’t exactly homey. The thought of white walls buttery with sunlight and plush carpet lining the floors nearly made Stiles’ heart twist in his chest.

After all the high school drama, and after all their losses, they could use a little slice of domesticity. A den of their own. 

Wow, this wolfy stuff was really rubbing off on him.

Regardless, once the Hale and McCall packs had merged gaming had quickly become one of their go-to bonding activities; if you can’t beat the shit out of each other for realsies, just smash some buttons and deck their character in the face instead. Simple, easy, no blood.

Most of the time, anyway. Erica and Liam got pretty competitive when the full moon was near.

“Should be here in forty. You’re lucky I actually have the cash to feed you all, because Jesus. We just made their night.” Derek sighed, dropping himself onto the couch. When Stiles turned he tried to control his breathing, and thus his heartbeat, because of course the guy had chosen the spot beside his own. 

It was an effort to keep himself from tripping as he plopped back down into his seat. Their upper arms brushed and Stiles didn’t let himself lean in or away, he just stayed put as Erica lazily tossed controllers to willing participants. 

“You spoil us.” Stiles simpered, catching one and looking into the man’s all too expressive eyes. It was impossible not to notice the way Derek’s chin lifted slightly, shoulders relaxed. He took pride in caring for his pack, in tending to their needs.

A sizable part of Stiles was downright shocked that he hadn’t been able to recognize Derek’s nature for what it was before junior year, the longing and hurt that he’d disguised with threats of violence. He supposed that had been the point at the time; maintain distance to minimize the potential for further emotional trauma.

Solid logic, except people were complicated. No one could sustain a mentality like that without losing their minds, but especially not an _ Alpha._ Their pack was their lifeblood.

The memory of Deucalion’s passing sent a pang of hurt through Stiles and he shoved it down before his friends could sniff it out. Not even a self-proclaimed demon wolf had been able to suppress the need for those ties in the end. It was why he’d fought with them, died for them. 

Clearing his throat, the teen shuffled a little in his seat and kept his attention on the screen. If the pack was concerned, he really didn’t want to know.

Stiles, Erica, Boyd, and Kira claimed the first round. Brawl was far from the best Smash Bros. game, but the mechanics were simple and there were enough different ways to play that it was enjoyable for both the more experienced players in their pack (ahem, Stiles included) as well as a certain banshee who’d never so much as _ held _a controller before the end of high school.

The first time Stiles had gone up against Derek he’d gotten his ass kicked. Hard. Probably because Stiles wouldn’t stop poking fun at him and insisting that he just surrender to his _ beastly urges _ and choose Wolf O’Donnell already. Derek had looked far too pleased at his victory, eyes hooded as his Solid Snake went after Scott’s frantic Luigi. 

That had been months ago now, but the memory had stuck. Haughty was a good look on Derek.

By the time the doorbell rang Derek and Stiles had teamed up against Scott and Lydia, intent on knocking them off the platform before going head to head themselves. Erica was shaking Stiles’ shoulders from behind the couch, shouting out combos as though she could play vicariously through him if she just yelled loudly enough. 

Kira perked up though, jumping to her feet and jogging over to the door to grab their food. The movement of her bare thighs in his periphery distracted Scott just long enough for Stiles’ Kirby to end him. 

Scott noticed belatedly, groaning and sinking back into the couch. When Kira returned, she flashed him a meek smile and held up one of the heavy plastic bags of Chinese takeout. 

“Hey Kira, just so you know,” Stiles snorted, grinning as he sent Lydia’s Zelda flying and ignored her defeated hiss. “Your shorts are my new best friend.”

It would have been worth the smack Scott landed at the back of his head if Derek hadn’t taken the opportunity to wreck his Kirby. Rest in peace, little dude. 

* * *

They didn’t hesitate to unpack the generous servings of food and help themselves. Stiles had connected his laptop to the TV so they could choose their first movie of the night, half-occupied with piling orange chicken and fluffy fried rice into the bowls Theo had grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Signs is good, I haven’t seen it in years.” Kira piped up around a mouthful of spicy beef, covering her lips delicately. Lydia blinked slow, head tilting critically. 

“Pass.” She said, tone cool. “Mel Gibson.”

About half the pack, including Kira, made a sound of understanding and they moved on to other options. 

“I’ve got Men in Black.” Stiles said around a cream cheese rangoon, scrolling through the list. When Lydia said she’d never seen it, he swallowed the deep fried mess down and looked to Scott with wide eyes. His friend’s answering grin was all he needed. Turning to Derek on his other side, he batted his lashes and leaned in a little closer. 

The Alpha’s stare was flat, brows rising. 

“Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones are gods among men.” Stiles said by way of explanation, ignoring Isaac’s snicker from Boyd’s right. 

“The roach guy is disgusting.”

“That’s the _ point_,” Stiles groaned, caving and dropping the weight of his upper body against Derek’s side. “Pleeeease?” 

Green eyes rolled so hard in their sockets that it was a miracle that they didn’t fall out of his head, but Stiles saw the telltale twitch in his jaw that betrayed the attempt to hide a smile. 

“God, fine. Pass the eggrolls.”

Stiles opened the file and went full-screen before leaning over and snatching up the container overflowing with crunchy veggie goodness. If one tumbled onto the floor for Prada to find mid-movie, she’d earned it.

Somehow.

* * *

By the time Edgar had asked where humans kept their dead, Scott was sighing with contentment and rubbing a hand over his full stomach. Erica had dashed upstairs for the bottle of wolfsbane infused scotch and half-drained bottle of plain (unwolfified) wine that Lydia kept tucked behind her bed. They didn’t drink every time they hung out, only on special occasions. This was definitely one of them. 

Derek didn’t seem particularly fond of his younger packmates indulging, but he’d said on more than one occasion that he remembered what it was like to be a teenager. His dry, “At least I can make sure you don’t go overboard” hadn’t exactly been a hit, but Stiles supposed he got where he was coming from. 

With his fruity buzz from earlier having worn off, Stiles accepted the wine when it was handed to him, taking a slow drink before passing it off to Lydia. The fermented zing of it warmed his throat. 

Soon enough, the credits were rolling and everyone but Isaac and Boyd were comfortably buzzed. Even Derek, who was still relaxing in a warm line against Stiles. The younger man’s fingers tingled with their closeness and he wondered quietly whether that feeling might be mutual. 

He really, really fucking hoped so. 

After some energetic debate and an airborne fortune cookie, the pack got comfortable and settled on the newest extraterrestrial release Stiles had on hand, 10 Cloverfield Lane. When they made it to the scene with the charred pigs, Isaac whined low in his throat and Erica scooted herself across the floor to comb her fingers through his hair, smiling a little at the way he pressed close before she turned fascinated eyes back on the screen. 

“That’s fucked.” Derek muttered with the slightest hint of a slur. Stiles didn’t bother suppressing a chuckle. 

“Mhm.” 

The Alpha’s arms were crossed casually over his stomach, one hanging dangerously close to Stiles. When the teen felt warm fingers brush along the soft cotton of his t-shirt he stiffened, lips parting in question before he snapped his mouth shut. 

_ Holy shit. _

Derek’s fingers paused before grazing the hem, lifting it just enough for skin on skin contact, and Stiles could feel the sudden race of his heart like he was holding the meat of it in his hand. His mind zoomed back to that moment hours ago when he’d caught Derek eyeing that very patch of skin from across the living room. 

It became a herculean effort to swallow, to take in air. Need flared under Derek’s light touch and Stiles feared the man could feel it, _ taste _it on the air like barbecue smoke.

He didn’t even notice the way Scott and Boyd’s gaze found him in what might have been concern before they scented the air and determinedly focused their attention back on the film. Off to the side, Theo snorted and rubbed his hand over Liam’s arm. Isaac had to shove at Erica to keep her from laughing aloud. 

The moment hung brief and heavy, but soon enough Derek’s fingers were curling away and leaving Stiles’ shirt to slip back down over his skin. All Stiles could do was silently mourn the loss.

Derek excused himself to the bathroom after another mouthful of scotch. Something about that had Erica grinning back at Stiles, fangs glinting. Scott cleared his throat and hid his nose in Kira’s shoulder, looking pained.

When Derek returned and sat himself down again, their arms ended up pressed together just a little more firmly between them.

* * *

They stayed up chatting for a while after the second movie ended. Kira couldn’t stop yawning and Erica couldn’t stop following suit, much to the kitsune’s sleepy amusement. When the fifth yawn struck, Kira’s caught on a laugh. Erica’s, on a growl. 

An hour passed easily between them as they spoke of school and work and pack. Kira was dozing against Scott and Isaac had curled up to doze on the rug, head pillowed on Boyd’s denim-clad thigh. Derek shifted away from Stiles to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands limp.

“I think we should get some rest. It’s gotta be morning.” He muttered, tilting his head to pop his spine lazily. Stiles’ gaze traced the curve of his throat, mouth dry. He didn’t think he had the energy to brush his teeth, but it occurred to him that it would probably feel good. Oh well. 

Erica, who was scrolling through her phone, glanced at the corner of the screen and smirked. “One twenty-six.”

Scott groaned, rolling his shoulder before lifting Kira gently from his lap. She made a tiny sound of dissent and looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“Puppy pile?” She asked softly, teasing a loving smile from her mate. 

“Puppy pile.”

Stiles slid off the couch and onto the rug below just as Derek stood to get the lights and turn off the TV, bathing the room in darkness. The barest hint of moonlight crept in through the glass doors that led to the backyard, just enough to have the seven shifters' many eyes reflecting dully. 

Lydia and Stiles dragged both the throw pillows and fat cushions from the couch behind them before cozying up together. The sound of shuffling fabric and heavy denim being thrown into a small mountain had them even drowsier, their bodies and minds anticipating the comfort to come. Isaac woke with a light nudge from Boyd, sitting up slowly and joining his pack in baring themselves.

Then came the crack of bones, the grunts and groans shifting steadily into growls and whines, the sound of claws clicking on the hardwood at the edge of the rug. Stiles smiled as a cold nose butted against his jaw, relatively sure it was Erica coming to say goodnight. Kira’s sharper, narrower muzzle came to rub at his shoulder before she wandered to his feet to curl up with Scott. It wasn’t long before another nose grazed his arm tentatively and the human’s expression mellowed, hand lifting to rest in the thick fur of Derek’s ruff. 

He didn’t know why it was easier when the Alpha was like this, but it was. It _ had _been since their packs had merged, since the first night spent together as a unit. Stiles would never forget the way Derek had cautiously padded closer before settling down beside him, eyes flicking between his face and the loft’s large windows. 

The next morning they’d woken pressed together, Stiles’ face buried in the downy fur at his throat. It hadn’t been as awkward as it should have been.

Lydia was already drifting off, body heavy against his own, and Stiles eased them both closer to the center of the group. Theo made his way over to Lydia’s other side, unable to change fully as true shifters could. He chuckled when Liam wormed his way between them, effectively warming the banshee’s back and keeping his boyfriend’s attention. 

“Good boy.” Theo whispered with the slightest edge of humor lingering beneath his exhaustion. Liam huffed and lapped at his nose, and Derek let out the most long-suffering, utterly _ exasperated _sigh Stiles had ever heard from an animal.

At the sound of the human’s soft chuckle, the massive black wolf paused before shuffling closer and nosing at his shoulder. Stiles’ hand curled in dark fur, thumb stroking over the skin buried deep under it even as his eyes fell shut.

He was out before he could even say his goodnights, limbs humming with the last traces of alcohol and his Alpha’s proximity.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos and comments are loved. Thanks for reading!


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